Name: Lam-Asyra De'Ville
Race: Fiend
Age: Young Adult
Sex: Has always taken a fully female appearance.
Height: 5'5"
Weight: Lighter than she looks.
Bust: Big, plump jugs!

Lam-Asyra cuts a striking figure, her lithe frame draped in silks that shimmer like molten silver, clinging to her pale, unblemished skin as though woven from shadows themselves. Her snow-white hair cascades in artful disarray, framing a face of sharp, youthful beauty, with full lips perpetually curved in a smirk. Twin obsidian horns spiral upward from her crown, polished to a gleam that matches the lacquered claws tipping her slender fingers. Though her mother's maternal softness is absent, Lam-Asyra's voluptuous curves and haughty poise radiate a brash, almost insolent allure; a daughter sculpted not for nurturing, but to be adored. Her amber eyes glint with a playful malice, daring onlookers to praise her or perish in the attempt.

Beneath her vanity lies a capricious spirit, as mercurial as her father's hoarded riches. Lam-Asyra revels in flattery, showering sycophants with fleeting favors or cruel whimsy, depending on her mood. She collects mortal admirers like trinkets, coaxing them into acts of reckless devotion with a saccharine charm that never quite masks the razor's edge beneath. To displease her is to invite humiliation; she delights in reducing proud knights to groveling fools or twisting poets' odes into dirges. Yet her wrath is fleeting; she tires of toys quickly, discarding shattered hearts and ruined lives with the same bored sigh. Her affection is a glittering poison, intoxicating and hollow, offered only to those who feed her ceaseless hunger for adoration.

Though she lacks her mother's monstrous brood, Lam-Asyra views herself as her parents' true masterpiece; a creature of vanity and vice, perfected. She flaunts her lineage like a jeweled crown. To her, the world is a mirror, and she its most exquisite reflection. Cross her, and her vengeance is swift, petty, and dazzling; a performance staged for her own amusement.

The fiend's vanity is not merely skin-deep; it is her birthright, her rebellion, her altar. She offers her reflection to admirers like a sacrament, demanding worship to fill the void her mother's smothering love could never satisfy. Yet her true desire festers in shadow, unspoken but palpable: to be the only jewel in her father's hoard.


LIGHTS
Red: Server rules, pedo, scat, godmodding, gore
Yellow: Watersports,
Green: Incest, bellyfuls of cum, vaginal, anal, oral, boob play, pleasing her daddy, domming and abusing lesser males, cock and ball torture, name calling, lifestyle shaming, family belittling (yours), expensive gifts, simps.